Mr. Bezos and company delivered a new bathmat to the house a couple of days ago. It's blue and ever so fluffy! I know it's just a bathmat, but we've had a thin chamois cloth as our "bathmat" for many years. It did the job, but it didn't give that feeling of “well done-your clean” that a bathmat gives.
We adopted a wonderful grey kitty from the pound named Milo ten or so years ago. Milo was affectionate, very intelligent, protective, and a gentleman, and while he loved my husband, I was fortunate to be his favorite.
He had so many good qualities. And as love goes, we adapted to his faults and quirks because that's what you do when you love something or someone. One of the adaptations that we made was not having a proper bathmat while he was around. Why? Well, our healthy four-legged friend had the not-uncommon feline fault of peeing on any fabric that happened to be on the floor.
It was a challenging quirk to live with, but we adapted. Nothing clean or dirty remained on the floor, and this thin chamois cloth was not a trigger for him, for some reason, so we kept it. We were grateful for Milo, quirks and all, and grateful that this piece of fabric was not a problem for him.
Sadly, he passed away in October, and I miss him terribly, but here's the thing: It was almost April before I realized that we could have a new bathmat. Holding on to that thin chamois cloth was not nostalgia, nor was it a way of honoring the dead. It was simply a thoughtless habit.
It got me thinking: How often do we need to wake up and remember to update the script? It is so easy to be dragged by distractions and get stuck in a breathless pace of living to get stuck in autopilot.
Sometimes, conversations about mindfulness or being in the present examine habits that come from the wrong motives or behaviors, not habits made in love or care that are not frequently examined.
As spring is beginning to unfold, it is an excellent opportunity to review my scripts!
As I am going through my day creating my to-do list and just living, I have to remind myself to take a moment and ask: why am I doing this? Do I need to continue doing this, or can I upgrade? Downgrade? Or do I have to do it at all?
He had so many good qualities. And as love goes, we adapted to his faults and quirks because that's what you do when you love something or someone. One of the adaptations that we made was not having a proper bathmat while he was around. Why? Well, our healthy four-legged friend had the not-uncommon feline fault of peeing on any fabric that happened to be on the floor.
It was a challenging quirk to live with, but we adapted. Nothing clean or dirty remained on the floor, and this thin chamois cloth was not a trigger for him, for some reason, so we kept it. We were grateful for Milo, quirks and all, and grateful that this piece of fabric was not a problem for him.
Sadly, he passed away in October, and I miss him terribly, but here's the thing: It was almost April before I realized that we could have a new bathmat. Holding on to that thin chamois cloth was not nostalgia, nor was it a way of honoring the dead. It was simply a thoughtless habit.
It got me thinking: How often do we need to wake up and remember to update the script? It is so easy to be dragged by distractions and get stuck in a breathless pace of living to get stuck in autopilot.
Sometimes, conversations about mindfulness or being in the present examine habits that come from the wrong motives or behaviors, not habits made in love or care that are not frequently examined.
As spring is beginning to unfold, it is an excellent opportunity to review my scripts!
As I am going through my day creating my to-do list and just living, I have to remind myself to take a moment and ask: why am I doing this? Do I need to continue doing this, or can I upgrade? Downgrade? Or do I have to do it at all?
If a humble bathmat required an upgrade, what else in my life needs some loving attention?
What about you? What parts of your script need an upgrade?
What about you? What parts of your script need an upgrade?
Upcoming Shows:
Wednesday, April 10, 6-9 pm
Table 47
5268 Point Fosdick Dr,
Gig Harbor, WA 98335
Friday, April 12, 4:30-6:30 pm
Vintage
725 Water St,
Port Townsend, WA 98368
Saturday, April 13, 7-9 pm
Cellar Cat
Cellar Cat
11253 NE State Hwy 104,
Kingston, WA 98346
Books I am reading:
I Sing the Salmon Home: Poems from Washington State, edited by Rena Priest
I realized I was a successful Eastcoast transplant when I could read a collection of poems about salmon and be moved and tickled. This collection of poems by Northwest writers is about each author's relationship with salmon, whether eating it or observing it in the wild. It's a lovely read!